Sunken Ship
by bittersweetstag
Summary: The Greatest measure of my love is your happiness...even if it is with someone else. RON AND HERMIONE ONESHOT. read and reveiw, please. xXx


**Sunken Ship **

**AN- I am a Ron and Hermione supporter, alright? All the way. I want no flames suggesting otherwise. But in life, things dot always turn out for the people you ship for. Hardly ever. Unless youre a hell good matchmaker. This is my bittersweet story of how love happens in the real world. Anyways, in a bad mood, hehe, better stop my rambling. xXxXx**

The measure of my love is your happiness; even if it is with someone else-anon

Ron Weasly, with all of the energy that he could muster from his defeated soul, forced the corners of his mouth to curve skywards. He was almost certain that his two best friends, standing before him, would recognise his cowardly grimace for anger, hurt, and a bit of confusion. They didnt, however, seem to think anything of it. Harry continued to beam at him, and Hermione continued to beam at Harry. Ron, upon Harrys words, had gone into a sort of trance. He had felt horribly as though he was falling, and with Hermiones delicate hand currently preoccupied in Harry's, he felt, in the most self-pitying sort of way, there was no one there to catch him. He wasnt, of course, doing anything of the sort. He was standing quite still, his eyes widened for just a moment, and then narrowed dangerously, a tiny crease appearing between his eyebrows. He had, of course, seen this coming. He had seen it for weeks now, months, years even, but he hated it as he had from the first moment that they looked at each other in a way that suggested anything more than friendship. He had shunned his eyes away, and merely nodded a tad bitterly whenever any stranger or acquaintance mentioned the fact that the two of them would make an adorable couple. He had pushed aside the fact that he was practically not his own person, but Harry Potters lanky sidekick, with a genius and a hero for best friends. He had even gone so far as to convince himself that Hermione might even consent to.  
No. It seemed stupid now. In the instant that Harry had opened up his mouth, informed Ron of his correct suspicions, and proceeded to kiss Hermione lightly on the lips, everything had become horribly clear. He knew now, that nothing he had ever dreamed, or imagined for his future, would ever come true. He would never get to be the one holding his hand in hers, or smiling as she laughed at something he had said. Because Ron Weasly was not funny. Ron Weasly did not get the girl. And Ron Weasly felt more alone and friendless than he could remember ever feeling in his entire life. Harry and Hermione were looking at him a little curiously by now. They seemed to have cottoned on to the fact that he was not his usual self, nor was he congratulating them as others had done, only moments before. Ron was standing, immobilised, as if by magic, to the spot that he had stood since Harry had told him of he and Hermiones situation.

Ron cleared his throat. He smiled. He wished that he couldnt see them-or, more to the point, that they couldnt see him- and he nodded, still smiling in such a mechanic way that he almost feared his mouth would never be able to move again. 'Brilliant.' He said, forcing the words out through his teeth, though they were smiling again, glad, obviously, that this had been a word of consent. 'I always knew that it would happen.' He added, for good measure, and because he didnt want to loose two friendships over anything. 'You two finally stopped being so damn stubborn hey?' he finished, his eyes glistening as he turned away, shunning his face from them. No one watching he would have been able to see how hurt he was. If Ron was one thing, he was proud, and he kept his tall back straight, making some hasty excuse about needing to get a drink, and heading out the front door of the Burrow, to the garden where he used to hide from Fred and George, as a child. The Burrow wasnt a large place, but the garden was any child's dream. It had flowers growing out of what seemed to be everything, and shrubs and a little bench, next to a heavily scented tree. Ron kicked over a pot plant on his way out. The thing was, he saw this coming a mile off, and he didn't even attempt to stop it. Perhaps that was why he didn't end up with Hermione. Perhaps that was why, in his opinion, he was going to die alone. Ron slumped into the seat. The fumes from the plant next to him wafted through and across his nose, and even though it was heavenly scented, he could think of nothing but bitter, horrible thoughts. He hadnt even given the slightest fight for her. He didnt deserve her.

The back door of the Burrow swung open and light streamed out, noise waffling out through the back door and into the garden, where Ron was sitting. The happiness of the gathering bit fiercely at his ears. He knew that they would all be happy for his friends. He could imagine each and every one of their reactions now. How they were glad that Harry finally had something good in his life. How Hermione had been there for him through it all. How they had seen it coming since that were so high, and had always known that they would end up together. He was almost certain that the twins would have had a wager on which year the pair of them would have gotten together. Ron didnt look up from examining his hands, but had he glanced from where he was sulking, he would have seen Hermiones silhouette before the door shut, shadowed against the light of inside. She strode across the little courtyard, and placed herself next to Ron.

'They all want you inside' She told him, her breathing a little shallow. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was obviously happy. Her hair hung in ringlets around her face, and by the light of the rising moon, Ron could see her eyes were sparkling, the way he knew that they did when she would get a great idea, or find something that could save their skins. It was a look of triumph and pride.

Ron hadnt replied. He realised, with a start, that he should really speak, or run the risk of seemed totally deluded, and so he stammered a reply.

'I dont feel well Hermione.' He said. He hated feeling guilty for everything that he had ever thought about her.

Now his dreams of kissing Hermione were not just innocent dreams of holding the one that you love, but were images of betrayal, and thoughts of not only kissing his friend Hermione but of kissing Harrys girlfriend. He gulped.

'Its good about you and Harry though.' He told her, amazing himself with how genuine he sounded. She raised her eyebrows, slightly.

'I was scared that you might feel left out. I would have hated that. I dont want to loose you as a friend Ron. I would hate that.' She told him.

She said this with such earnest that Ron actually felt himself cringing inwardly at the way he had rushed from the room.

Hermiones face was close, and he thought of just leaning forward and kissing her, having the skin hexed off of him being damned, but he held himself back. There was something in her voice that he had only ever heard once before. He had heard it once when she was speaking to him, in fourth year. Ron had now idea what it was, but he knew that it made her cheeks glows, the apples of her face glowing gloriously, and the corners of her eyes crinkling joyously. He heard a laugh from the house, and realised that it was Harry Potter, his best friend, who had been moping around for what felt like months now, never knowing if he was going to live until the next day, being totally miserable, telling a story happily, his tones muffled though the walls of the house.

'I know. Im fine, really.' Ron assured her, in the same, relaxed tones. He didnt know what was wrong with him.

His heart was beating ferociously, angrily, jealously, but something stopped him from screaming, and crying, and taking out his wand and cursing everything in site.

Some writhing feeling was monitoring the words that came out of his mouth. It was making his feel sick to the stomach, wonderfully noble, horribly miserable, and madly envious all at the same time.

In a fleeting instant, he knew that that feeling was love.

**AN: the end. I know you probably all hate it, but I am in a bittersweet mood.**  
xXxXx


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